Freaky Manjuu
by kashudoreineko
Summary: Mokona asks Watanuki to grant a wish - but it's not exactly what Watanuki thought he was granting.
1. Chapter 1

Freaky Manjuu

DISC: I do not own xxxHolic or any of the characters. These belong to Clamp – those crazy mangaka who make us all practically faint for the shonen-ai and then YANK it out from under us. Clamp, if I can have one request, it's to give us some DouWata love by the end of this series! PLEASE!

Chapter 1

Watanuki's POV

It was the fourth time the manjuu bun had sighed in the past ten minutes. The seer set down the pipe that had formerly belonged to his mentor and turned to the black Mokona. While he knew that Mokona had been used to consuming large quantities of alcohol back when Yuuko had been running the shop – before she had finally disappeared, dying the death that had been held off for centuries by the magic of Clow Reed – Watanuki could tell that it wasn't liquor that was causing the plushie's discontent.

In fact, he knew it.

One of the strangest abilities he had gained when he made the choice to take over the shop was the ability to read minds to an extent – at least as far as wishes were concerned. When someone was in the shop and had a wish for him to grant, a wish that they were prepared to allow him to grant, he could pick up thoughts and feelings about it. It was limited, of course. It came in fits and starts. For example, the fact that Doumeki could still enter the shop meant that he had a wish. But all he could read from the archer was exactly what the man would state when asked why he was there. "I'm here to see you."

So when he turned his attention on the black, long-eared creation, he was surprised to get the sensation that he would be able to sense wish thoughts.

"Mokona?" he inquired.

Larg sighed again and then faced his new master. "Yeah," he responded despondently.

"What's wrong, you crazy pork bun?"

With a serious expression, he nodded and then said, "I have a wish." Watanuki said nothing so he continued. "See, I have this friend – and... if he could just see what *I* see." He paused and Watanuki got a flash, an image, of Doumeki. "If he could just have to see the world through my eyes for a day, he'd understand so much more," and then he heard the thought, 'Watanuki just works so hard. So hard every day.' Finally he finished, "And I think his life would be so much better if he just could SEE."

Well, that was unexpected. And unexpectedly sweet. So the plush toy wanted Doumeki to see how hard Watanuki worked – to have more appreciation for him. Smirking, he said, "Hm. Well, I could have you change consciousnesses with this person. But you'd have to act like him – part of the payment would have to be that no one would know, so you'd have to be a pretty good actor."

"Mokona is a very good actor!" the black toy bounced a little, getting back some of its former excitement.

"And… for it to work, the person you're swapping with would have to not be able to blow your cover, so your body wouldn't be able to speak. The second part of your payment would have to be not speaking for the day of the event and a full extra day after." The silence of the pork bun would be payment indeed.

The bun nodded and mimed using a key to shut the lock of his mouth.

"And the final part of your payment would be accepting whatever punishment the other person desired once the exchange was complete. I doubt anyone would be too happy being trapped inside a mute pork bun for a day – you might just find yourself deep-fried."

At this, the toy looked concerned for a second and then looked up. "I'll do it!"

With a smirk, the seer said, "Would you like to do it right now? Doumeki has just entered the gate."

Blinking in surprise, Mokona froze for a second and then smiled and nodded. Watanuki grinned at him. This was going to be fun. Doumeki as a plush toy! It was too good to be true.

He clapped his hands twice, focusing his thoughts on the need for them to change places. And the world shifted underneath him, swirling in colors of black and white and greys – then exploding out into a rainbow. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. He blinked his eyes and noticed a skinny young man in an elaborate silk yukata bend over, smiling, to pick him up.

'Of course,' he thought with not a little irritation. 'Too good to be true!' With that thought, he awaited his day of hell, Deep frying would be the least of Mokona's worries when he was done with him.

X

Mokona's POV

Everything was going wrong. First Yuuko had died. He knew that it was inevitable – she was supposed to have died so many, many years ago. She had been prepared for it.

But Watanuki hadn't. Losing yet another person important to him had hurt the seer so much. Enough that he'd lost his focus. He was seeing only his loss, and not his gain. Kohane, Himawari, and especially Doumeki – they needed him. He was as important to his family as Yuuko had been to him. But he just wasn't seeing it.

And poor Doumeki was dying inside. He wanted the boy so much that he was willing to wait as long as it took for Watanuki to realize it, just staying by his side. But by making the decision to remove himself from the world – how would Doumeki ever have a chance now?

So, when Watanuki asked him what was wrong, he said, "I have a wish." Watanuki said nothing so he waited to see whether he was going to be taken seriously. When he saw he had the boy's undivided attention, he continued. "See, I have this friend – and... if he could just see what *I* see." He could practically see Doumeki – the look the exorcist got on his face when he watched Watanuki, when he knew Watanuki wasn't looking. God, it was SO obvious the guy was in love. "If he could just have to see the world through my eyes for a day, he'd understand so much more." He couldn't help thinking, 'And Watanuki just works so hard. So hard every day. To deny what he feels about him.'

He finished with, "And I think his life would be so much better if he just could SEE."

It was a raw hope that the wish granter couldn't see what he was thinking. But who cared? If he did read his thoughts, then maybe he'd at least be unable to deny that Doumeki was in love with him.

And then, Watanuki smirked and said, "Hm. Well, I could have you change consciousnesses with this person. But you'd have to act like him – part of the payment would have to be that no one would know, so you'd have to be a pretty good actor."

"Mokona is a very good actor!" the black toy bounced a little, getting back some of its former excitement. He was obviously a good actor or Watanuki wouldn't be acting like he was going to go through with this.

"And… for it to work, the person you're swapping with would have to not be able to blow your cover, so your body wouldn't be able to speak. The second part of your payment would have to be not speaking for the day of the event and a full extra day after."

The bun nodded and mimed using a key to shut the lock of his mouth. He wasn't going to screw this up by saying anything and spilling any of the beans.

"And the final part of your payment would be accepting whatever punishment the other person desired once the exchange was complete. I doubt anyone would be too happy being trapped inside a mute pork bun for a day – you might just find yourself deep-fried."

Hm. Well… that was a distinct possibility. But… if he realized what he needed to, to grow and finally be happy, it would be worth it. "I'll do it!"

"Would you like to do it right now? Doumeki has just entered the gate."

That was a surprise. But just because he'd figured out it was Doumeki – he couldn't have figured it all out, or he wouldn't be agreeing. Let's face it. Watanuki spending the day trapped in a plushie toy? No. No way. It made him curious, what did Watanuki think he would be granting? Making Doumeki swap with the toy? Oh. Yeah. That was probably it. It was hard not to laugh. This was going to be fun.

Then Watanuki clapped his hands twice, and he felt the world as a swirling of colors that resolved itself into vision that was not as clear as what he was used to. In fact, his vision changed when he closed one or the other eye. He took a moment to blink one eye, then the other, testing his vision.

Laughing, he picked up the plushie and turned to the door to await Doumeki's entrance.

X


	2. Chapter 2

Freaky Manjuu

DISC: I do not own xxxHolic or any of the characters. These belong to Clamp – those crazy mangaka who make us all practically faint for the shonen-ai and then YANK it out from under us. Clamp, if I can have one request, it's to give us some DouWata love by the end of this series! PLEASE!

Chapter 2

"Oi." From within the plushie, Watanuki couldn't help but roll his eyes. Would that giant oaf ever learn a proper greeting?

His thoughts were interrupted by his Mokona-controlled body, flailing about. "How many times do I have to tell you? I have a name! I swear, how much of an idiot can you possibly be that you can't even remember my name?"

The archer shrugged and said nothing, and he saw that his body sighed and said, "Well, since you're here, you might as well come in." He'd turned and began walking into the sitting room. "By the way, why ARE you here?"

Doumeki faltered half a step, and he saw his shoulders and his expression tighten for a fraction of a second before he replied, looking at the seer's retreating back wistfully. "I'm here to see you."

"Yeah, yeah," Mokona called over Watanuki's shoulder, "you're just here for the free food. You're such a parasite. Don't your parents ever feed you?"

The archer's mouth tightened before he made a non-committal grunt. The Watanuki-plushie could see that Doumeki's gaze ran along the form of the one walking in front of him.

"Well, you're here already. I suppose it would be rude to not offer you something." He continued his way toward the kitchen.

Continuing to follow him he stated, "I want fu irichi." The Watanuki-filled Mokona saw Doumeki's mouth form a smirk as he said it.

But the smirk quickly vanished and was replaced with stoic disinterest as the Mokona-powered boy jumped and spun, going into full spaz mode. "I don't take orders! You'll eat what I make you and you'll like it – You should be crawling on your knees, thanking me, the great Watanuki-sama, for deigning to feed that black hole you call a stomach!" Stomping, the boy continued toward the kitchen.

'I don't really sound like that, do I?'

Doumeki just shrugged, but when he saw Watanuki couldn't hear him, he chuckled and then quietly followed.

In the kitchen, Mokona realized that there was going to be a problem. If he cooked, Doumeki would know. He'd figure it out. Quickly he spun, rounding on the unsuspecting Doumeki. "Out! Get out of my kitchen! If you're going to be a gluttonous pig, you can just wait for food in the other room." He pushed a container of sake into the archer's hands, then pushed him out of the room. "Oh no you don't!" he exclaimed at the body of Mokona. "You'll drink the entire bottle before anyone else gets a chance to even have a sip. You can just stay here with me in the kitchen and help me cook!"

Then he closed the door to the kitchen and faced the now silent wrath of Watanuki.

He couldn't speak, but Mokona knew Watanuki was fuming for being tricked into changing places.

The Mokona-ful boy leaned over and said, "I know you're not too happy right now. But you're going to need to do the cooking. I'll help."

The Watanuki-filled plushie crossed his arms, his expression clearly declaring, "Humph!" even though he made no sound.

"Okay. I'll do the cooking then," Mokona was so sly. "And then, when it doesn't taste like your cooking normally does, Doumeki will notice that it wasn't cooked by you. You know what? I bet he'll think you've been possessed – which, in a way, you have – and he'll try to exorcise you. What would happen then?" the creature asked, knowing full well how painful it would be should Doumeki try to counter Watanuki's wish magic. Painful for Doumeki. "How badly do you think the rebound energy will hurt Doumeki, anyway?"

With a grimace, the manjuu bun shape began stomping – his plush feet not making nearly enough sound with each stomp to be at all satisfying – around the kitchen as he prepared the meal.

Mokona caused Watanuki's face to smirk, noticing that he was making, as usual, exactly what was requested – along with some edamame and onigiri yaki. When it was all finished and on the tray, the seer's body walked over and picked it up, bringing it into the sitting room, where Doumeki was lounging, sipping on a cup of sake.

Slamming the tray down as noisily as he could without jostling any of the contents at all, he declared, "Here's your damn food," and then began to serve.

Seriously. Did he really come across as that rude? He'd always thought of himself as polite and well-mannered, but Doumeki was acting as if nothing was different at all. It made him swallow hard.

But what made him swallow harder was the way Doumeki was looking at his body. He watched Watanuki's every move – how he laid out the food with familiar, simple and efficient movements, how he served Doumeki first, then Mokona (which was himself), Moro and Maru, and only then allowed himself to eat. The look of longing on Doumeki's face did not seem to be at all directed toward the food. And Watanuki's body didn't seem to even glance toward the archer at all.

Then, he saw how Doumeki poured a cup of sake and handed it to himself – as Mokona.

Well, crap.

Watanuki knew he didn't hold liquor very well. Would he be able to as the plushie? And if he didn't drink, would Doumeki become suspicious? Not only did he have to worry about what would happen if Doumeki got it into his head to undo the magic he'd put into place, he also had to think about the ramifications of Doumeki finding out he'd spent the day as a voiceless plushie. God, he would never live it down. Really, what choice did he have? He nodded a thanks and accepted the cup, throwing it down his throat the way Mokona usually did.

Oh, my god! The warmth filled his belly and a feeling of happiness electrified him, spreading out through all his limbs. No wonder the damned thing was so eager to drink if this was its body's response. With a shit-eating grin, he eagerly held his cup out for a refill.

"Oh, no!" Watanuki's voice filled the room. "You eat something first. Sheesh! I swear, you're such a little drunkard. And I'm not going to have to deal with your hangover tomorrow!"

Doumeki smirked and Watanuki felt himself, as Mokona, pout for a second – until he started eating the food laid out for him. Wow. Tasting it with someone else's tastebuds… 'I really AM a good cook!'

But even with the distraction of food and liquor, he couldn't help but fervently watch Doumeki as he ate.

It was strange. In his own body, he'd watched the exorcist eat before, but it had never looked like this. Sure, he always ate fast. But, he'd never noticed that look on his face before. The man looked at the food as if in great anticipation. Okay, so it was stoic Doumeki anticipation: someone not looking for it probably wouldn't even notice. Then, on top of that, every time he swallowed, his eyes closed for just a fraction of a second in bliss. Yes, it wasn't much of an expression. Just closed eyes and blankness. But for Doumeki, it was like the equivalent of 1920s melodrama.

He was shoveling the food in so fast, it should have been impossible for there to be that much expression on his face. Did he always look like this? Or had his Doumeki been possessed, too?

Ugh. Did he really just refer to the archer as "his?" It had to be the influence of being in Mokona's body.

Instead of thinking about that faux pas, he decided to instead focus his attention on how every time Watanuki's expression became too thoughtful, too morose, every time it looked like Watanuki wasn't even tasting the food he was eating, Doumeki's lips would turn slightly downward, then he would reach his chopsticks over to steal something off the seer's plate.

He had to admit, Mokona's reactions to having the food stolen were loud and flailing, but somewhat accurate. And… Shizuka's lips quirked up – it was as if he were smiling in relief each time. Did that mean that all this time, he'd been doing it on purpose? To distract him from… whatever?

As he pondered, the manjuu bun exploded yet again as the exorcist stole another onigiri off his plate – finishing up his rant by asking everyone if they needed more tea, more sake.

Well, if Mokona could act as him, he could act as Mokona. Bouncing erratically and energetically, he held his glass out to be refilled. He'd already finished all his food – sucking it down like a vacuum. He tossed back the glass in true Mokona style, and held it out to be refilled again. Wow. Apparently Mokona could metabolized hard liquor so quickly he could barely feel the effects for more than a few minutes. No wonder he drank so damned much. He tossed it back and held it out again, bouncing to catch their attention. Because of the spell, he couldn't say anything.

"Oi. What's with him?" Doumeki gestured toward Watanuki in Mokona's body.

Waving dismissively, Mokona in Watanuki replied as he poured again, "Oh, Mokona wanted to visit Kohane, and I told him that if he could resist talking all day today, I'd let you take him the next time you visit her." With a wistful expression, Mokona continued. "I wish I could go with you two, but…" he waved around the shop, reminding them both that he'd given up on the rest of the world, unable to ever leave the store again. "Nothing's more important than waiting for Yuuko-san to return."

Swallowing hard, Watanuki saw anger flash in Doumeki's eyes, followed by desperation, loss, regret, and then finally, determination.

Just then, Watanuki sensed a wisher arriving at the shop. "Ah. A customer. If you'll excuse me…" Mokona had Watanuki's body stand, and he flowed out of the door in an elegant and refined stride.

Watanuki was torn. Should he follow Mokona? After all, Mokona couldn't grant wishes! But… he looked back at Domeki and all thought fled. The archer's expression was one of total devastation.

"He really is trying, isn't he?" Doumeki asked, glancing at Watanuki in Mokona's body. "Pointless. She's gone. He'll never be like her."

Normally, that would be enough to set the seer off, but the honest and wistful tone made him just cock his head and hop closer to Doumeki, who shook his head slightly before reaching over to pat the plushie's head.

"I know he misses her. But Yuuko is Yuuko and Watanuki is Watanuki." The unspoken, 'Yuuko was detached,' was somehow heard in the slight pause before his comment, "Watanuki *cares* about people." With a self-effacing grimace he continued, softly, "Except me, of course." Then he slammed his cup of sake and poured himself another.

This was a little hard to listen to. Did he really think that he didn't care about him? He wobbled over and placed a paw on Doumeki's knee. 'I… I do care,' he thought.

"It's alright. I knew he'd never return my feelings."

'Woah. Wait. What? Did he just say…' Watanuki lifted his paw off Doumeki's knee and just stared, shock setting him into freeze mode.

Slamming yet another cup of alcohol, he then leaned forward and patted the plushie again. "Don't worry, Mokona. As long as he might need me, I'll be here." The archer sighed, leaning back against the couch. "I'll keep coming back. 'Til I die of old age. And he'll remain…" He cut his comment short as the seer's body, propelled under Mokona power, opened the door to enter the room.

The seer-turned-wish granter watched as Doumeki's gaze fell on the seer with longing, then quickly turned away.

"That one was easy. She wished to know whether or not her boyfriend was cheating on her. I let her look at him through Ozma's mirror and she was so relieved."

"Mm," Doumeki grunted. Then he stood. "Going home now. Chores."

"So soon?" Watanuki's soft voice called.

Without turning around, the archer nodded. "I'll come back later."

"Let me guess, you'll be back once it's time for dinner."

The plushie could see him grimace, then smirk as he said, "Make shabu shabu." Then he waved and just walked out of the shop.

The Watanuki-filled toy stared after him as he left.

Mokona, in Watanuki, slyly smiled and said nothing, pouring himself a tumbler of sake and sipping it. The expression on his face, the way he just stared at the door, Mokona knew the seer had finally seen. He wasn't going to rub it in. No. It would be better to let it settle in slowly.

X


	3. Chapter 3

Freaky Manjuu

DISC: I do not own xxxHolic or any of the characters. These belong to Clamp – those crazy mangaka who make us all practically faint for the shonen-ai and then YANK it out from under us. Clamp, if I can have one request, it's to give us some DouWata love by the end of this series! PLEASE!

Chapter 3

What was he going to do? What had he done?

Doumeki had… feelings… for him. Did that mean what he thought it meant?

He said it straight out that he'd keep coming there until he died. The big oaf. He was going to give up his whole life. And for what? For HIM? Didn't he know he wasn't worth it?

God. He'd never been worth it. And he kept giving and giving. Wasn't that one of the reasons why he decided to wait for Yuuko? That way Doumeki could be free… and…

But that wasn't true, was it?

He hadn't thought about Doumeki. He hadn't considered Doumeki at all. All he had thought about was the fact that he missed Yuuko. And now, he didn't want to lose anyone else.

Mokona's comment really got him thinking. It was okay that he'd never get to visit Kohane again. Kohane would understand. And with her abilities, she'd be able to visit him at the shop whenever she felt like it. And Himawari would only be better off with him as a wish granter. Because maybe he'd someday find something that would help break her curse. But Doumeki…

Why would Doumeki want to give up his life to babysit him? He was a grown man, dammit. Enough so to run the entire shop! He didn't need a god-damned babysitter.

But… it wasn't about that, was it? It was that Doumeki wanted... And Watanuki had made it impossible…

The plushie swallowed as he remembered the unbridled desire he'd seen, for just a split second, that had crossed Doumeki's face as he's watched Watanuki's body stride across the floor, out the door, to greet that customer.

But he needed to wait for Yuuko. It wouldn't be right if he didn't wait. Yuuko could be reincarnated and have no one there for her. He had to wait.

At the expense of everyone else who loved him? How was that fair? And if it was hitsuzen, wouldn't he be reincarnated to arrive at the same time, too?

Actually, he'd thought of that before he'd made his decision. But no one needed… he just wasn't that important…

That's what he'd thought. Doumeki's expressions just proved that wrong. The fact was, he was being selfish.

And really, he had acted without thinking about what it all meant. He hadn't considered that his decision meant that someday Doumeki wouldn't be there. Doumeki was always there. Doumeki **should always** be there. If Doumeki wasn't there it would be like… Like being without Yuuko.

Stopping, he imagined what it would be like. What it REALLY would be like.

No one to cook for except Mokona – and he really would be just as content with cheap liquor as he was with cooking. He didn't really care about the effort Watanuki made.

The girls would keep him company. But… without Doumeki there to pester him, to rile him. Just to be there. It would be…

God.

Someday Doumeki wouldn't be here.

Someday Doumeki would be… dead.

His little plush paws flew up to his mouth in an attempt to hold in the involuntary cry that burst forth at that thought.

What had he done?

"Watanuki," Mokona called from his own body. "Doumeki will probably be back in about an hour. You should probably make dinner now and have it waiting when he returns – so he doesn't catch on.

Nodding, he stood up and walked to the kitchen, numb in his new realization. Silently, he prepared for dinner.

X

He'd set out the pot, laid out all the ingredients, and had just finished poured the sake when Doumeki arrived.

Nodding, Mokona in the guise of Watanuki waved him in, and they ate in silence.

Still lost in thought and worry, Watanuki failed to notice that Mokona was drinking sake in his body. And as much sake as he'd normally consume in his plushie form. But that lack of awareness changed when he saw Doumeki reach out and grasp his wrist as his body tried to fill his tumbler with more sake.

"That's your third glass. I think you've had enough."

"Oh, but I'm jus' geddin starded," his voice slurred, as he slipped to one side. As it happened, the side he slipped to was the side Doumeki was sitting on, and the seer's body fell so that his head landed in the taller boy's lap. Smiling, he looked up at waved. "Hi, Doumeki!"

'Oh, god. He's gotten me drunk!'

Watanuki couldn't pull his eyes away. It was like a train wreck. And Mokona used the opportunity to snuggle his face against Doumeki's thigh. "Mmmm. You're so comforbull." He sighed and snuggled some more, his arms hugging onto Doumeki's leg.

Doumeki, he noticed, was frozen like a deer in the headlights. Watanuki could see him struggling with what to do. Gritting his teeth, the archer closed his eyes and took several deep, meditative breaths. And then, he reached down with one hand and brushed the hair out of his friend's eyes. The other hand was opening and closing – for all intents and purposes appearing as if he were trying to talk himself out of resting it on Watanuki's… shoulder? Waist? Hip?

"Idiots shouldn't try to drink so much." But though the words were disparaging, the exorcist was looking at him with such…

There wasn't any way to deny it. He was looking at him with love. Hopeless, unrequited love.

But it wasn't him. It was Mokona. Unbidden, the thought came, "That should be me." And then, "Doumeki." Finally, sadness turned to anger. "That should be me!" He clapped his little paws twice, with feeling.

And the colors of the world shifted.

He felt himself settling back in to his own body. Only a fraction of a second came clear, allowing Watanuki to understand he was back, and then the alcohol Mokona had forced him to imbibe hit him like a hammer across the brain.

Blinking, the solid form against which he was pressing his cheek, the firm limbs he'd wrapped his arms around, became the backdrop to his awareness. And oh, that backdrop made him feel so safe and warm. Doumeki's fingers that continued to brush through his hair felt like the most amazing thing ever.

Doumeki. Doumeki was sad because of him. He owed so much to Doumeki.

Doumeki's fingers felt so good. He snuggled in more, really hugging the archer's leg.

But stupid! He was so stupid. How could he be so dumb! He'd left Doumeki behind for Yuuko. And now Doumeki was sad. Doumeki wasn't supposed to have emotions. But he was sad. And someday… Just like everyone else…

What would he do if Doumeki left – if he died?

It wouldn't be like being without Yuuko. It would much, much worse.

He started to cry. Silently, his tears fell and Doumeki's fingers continued their assault on his scalp. His parents, then Yuuko. He was always alone. And the fingers in his hair played counterpoint to the thoughts running through his brain.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. "Why does everyone leave me behind?" he sobbed.

Fingers stalled and then continued stroking. "I'm still here."

"But you'll leave me, too. You'll go. Or you'll… you'll…" He rolled over and looked up into golden eyes. "I don't want you to die! I want you to stay! Why can't you stay with me forever? I want you to stay!" He rolled over completely, burying his face in the archer's tummy, his arms wrapped around, holding the archer tight. He sobbed, "Shizuka, I…"

With a start, he sat upright, his eyes wide, and then he quickly stood and ran toward the bathroom, the green in his complexion giving away the reason for his flight.

X

The sound of retching rang clearly through the hall as Doumeki made his way toward the bathroom.

Normally, he wouldn't interrupt Watanuki at a moment like this – where he's showing what might be perceived of as weakness. But the sorcerer was drunk. He never drank like that. What had prompted him to get drunk? And, more importantly, he'd not only said he wanted to be with Doumeki for ever, he called him… he'd called him by name.

The sounds of vomiting stopped well before he got to the door. Instead, he was greeted with the sound of whimpering sobs. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what to do."

With a sigh, Doumeki gently pulled the glasses off the boy's face, then walked over to the sink, set the glasses down, and poured a cup of mouthwash.

"Use this," he said as he handed it to Watanuki. When the boy just nodded and rinsed, then spit the dross into the toilet – without a word of argument – Doumeki knew something had to be very wrong indeed. He took the cup back, set it on the counter, then bent down to pick up his drunken and disheveled friend. It did nothing to make him feel less worried when the seer turned and wrapped his arms around him as he carried him, bridal style, toward his bedroom. The boy was still crying softly.

Shizuka's intention was to gently lay Watanuki on his bed and then sit down on the edge next to him. But Watanuki wouldn't let go. So, he sat with his back against the headboard, Watanuki on his lap, his face buried in the archer's shoulder. Eventually, his breathing evened out and Doumeki could tell that the seer had stopped crying.

Very softly, he whispered, "You awake?"

The bundle in his lap nodded, his face rubbing against his chest as he did.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he held back a sigh. "So?" he inquired.

Watanuki shook his head no, still keeping his face pressed tightly up against the broad shoulder. "You first."

A single eyebrow raised in confusion, and even though he couldn't possibly have seen it with his face pressed into the other boy, he said, "You first. Why do you keep coming over here?"

With a blank stare that felt like rolled eyes, he responded, "To see you."

Watanuki quickly looked up and looked into Doumeki's golden eyes. "Why?" His voice was firm, demanding a response.

Looking off to the side, he responded simply, "Because." And in his mind, Watanuki heard, faintly, "That's my wish."

Mismatched eyes widened just a fraction. Then closed, and he rested his face against a broad, warm chest, his arms still wrapped around the taller man.

He really should have expected it. But still, after about 15 seconds with the seer not moving, Doumeki sighed.

Watanuki had fallen asleep.

X

When he awoke, he had a slight crick in his neck. But his cheek was resting against the softest…

He went to move an arm, and realized it was trapped. His eyes opened wide and the night before came back to him. Unconsciously, he hugged the boy in his arms just a little tighter. He was rewarded with a sleepy groan.

"Ugh. I don't feel very well," came a soft mutter.

"Nauseous?" he inquired softly.

"No. I just feel like I got stomped on by a dem-" the voice cut off, to be replaced with a screech and backpedalling out of the bed. "Doumeki! What are you doing in my BED!"

Smirking and plugging one ear with his pinky, he replied, "Well, if you can make that much noise, then you don't have a hangover. Good thing you puked."

Doumeki watched as bi-colored eyes widened in memory, then crinkled in obvious upset.

"Are you finally going to tell me?"

Looking away, trying to find something that might require his attention and get him out of this, Watanuki replied, "Tell you what?"

"Why."

His eyes continued to roam over the room seeking respite. "Why? What do you mean?"

Swiftly, Doumeki moved, grabbed Watanuki's arm and turned him to face him. "Why. Did you get drunk. What is going on in that idiot brain of yours?"

Without looking away, Watanuki was held captive by golden eyes. He began to ramble, "It really wasn't my fault. Mokona, he… No. I can't say that, then you'll find out." He gasped and covered his mouth with both hands. His voice muffled, he said, "I… I…"

And he sprang on the unsuspecting archer, grasping him by the upper arms and planting a kiss on his lips. The next second, he'd flung himself away and was ranting to himself.

"AH! Why did I do that? I can't do that. It's not fair. But he's going to die and I don't want him to and I'll still be here and alone – God, I'm so stupid! I just didn't think, I just thought Yuuko would, but if Doumeki, and he's going to keep coming and God, it's not right. You should just go and leave me! Everyone does and who cares what *I* want? Why should you be different, just because you're here and why? Why didn't you tell me?! I wouldn't have- I might have-" He threw himself at the archer again.

This time, Doumeki caught his arms and pushed him away mere seconds after their lips had touched. "What are you doing?"

After a second had passed, Watanuki stomped one foot, hands thrust down in fists by his side, and screamed, "I DON'T KNOW!" The urge to run away was strong. But, where would he go? He couldn't leave the shop. Instead, he dropped and curled up into a ball, wrapping his arms around his legs and hiding his face. "I'm such an idiot," he muttered.

Sitting on the bed next to him, Doumeki responded, "I've been saying that for years."

Without lifting his face, he thrust his arm out, pointing at the exorcist. "YOU shut up! You're a bigger idiot than I am."

"How do you figure?"

"Only a total moron falls in love with an idiot."

An outside observer would have said that Doumeki's expression hadn't changed at the statement. But Watanuki heard the intake of breath. Through his arms he said, sadly, "I... I wasn't trying to leave you behind. I just…" He lifted his head and yelled angrily at the startled boy sitting on the bed. "You're always around! Always! Why would it even occur to me that you wouldn't still be here with me?!"

Speaking slowly, as if trying to figure out what the right thing to say might be, Doumeki ventured to respond, "You… want me to… be here?"

"God, you're so annoying! Do you know that? Do you need a written invitation? Do I have to write it out like a contract?!"

"Actually, I think… I might like that."

"You WHAT-" He was unable to finish that thought because this time, Doumeki had initiated the kiss. And this time, it wasn't just closed lips. No, his hands pulled the idiot to him, arms wrapped around and trapped him in an embrace, fingers stroked down his back. And when they reached far enough that he actually grabbed the seer's ass, causing him to gasp, his tongue thrust into the slightly younger man's mouth, lightly massaging, licking, enticing a moan.

And now, it was Watanuki's hands roaming, stroking, pressing them closer together. When they broke for air, the taller man bent to kiss down the other's neck. "Shizuka," he moaned, his hands grasping pulling, trying to get closer – why weren't they closer?

The sound of his name. He paused and just held the seer. Resting his head on his shoulder, he called, softly, but with longing, "Kimihiro." Arms tightened around the fragile boy. "I… have a wish."


End file.
